'Bless thee!' muttered Jordan Dinnage, 'thou wilt lead me a-moon-lightin' to-day. I see it in thee, lass! An' if thou doesn't break Bayard's knees or thine own neck, one day, my name's not Jordan Dinnage.—There they be! Hoicks, hoicks! Lady Deb! Gone away!!' And behold the old bailiff (muttering gloomily a moment ago, between twinges of rheumatic pain) would give the view-hollo with a voice like a clarion. But Deborah Fleming was already off like a whirlwind, with a cry of joy, her hair flying. And she led Jordan a dance that day....
'You must come home, Charlie,' said Deborah. She looked happier than any queen. The brush was swinging at her saddle, and Bayard and his little mistress appeared fresh and spirited as the dawn. All the huntsmen gathered about, and stared at Deborah, for the dawning beauty of Mistress Fleming began to be noised abroad, and the young lads from far and near would come to see the 'Rose of Enderby.' 'Who is she?' was whispered round. 'Why, Sir Vincent Fleming's daughter. They call her the Rose of Enderby.' The best of it was, Deborah was unconscious of it all. The spirit of the hunt was in her; her large gray eyes were luminous with light and life, her hair was afloat in amber clouds. She cared not even for Kingston, in moments such as those.
'You must come,' she urged pleadingly. 'It is early yet, and Marjory has a hunter's dinner ready—a banquet. And besides—I have a fair lady to greet ye, Charlie.'
'Then good-bye!' Charlie turned back his horse. 'Nay, Deb. Who is it? I want no "fair ladies."—But come away from these gaping loons,' he added, his boyish heart swelling with a sullen pride at the attention his sister was exciting; and they rode away together.
'It is May Warriston. Such a little angel! Quite harmless and full of fun, as much fun as Mistress Dinnage.' And then Deborah blushed, and gave a slight imperial bow, for Kingston, splendidly mounted, was now at her other side.
He bowed, with some mock-pleading in his eyes. 'What is this, fair cousin—May Warriston? Nay, Charlie, boy, I must go and see sweet May; she has always a sweet word for me, and sometimes something sweeter and kinder far!' And Kingston, glancing upbraidingly at Deborah's averted face, saw that it was crimsoned with haughty shame, at which sight he was somewhat confused.
'Well, come,' said Charlie, 'and make short work of it, for I am gated at seven; thanks be to old Shand.' So they rode fast home to Enderby; Jordan groaning behind, now that the hunt was over.
Mistress Dinnage stood gravely in the lodge door in the twilight; Kingston smiled and kissed his hand; Charlie Fleming looked not up at all. May Warriston ran out with smiles and blushes, which were not lost on Kingston, who greeted her even tenderly; but May glanced up at the tall dark lad on the bay horse, and felt her foolish little heart flutter, because he bowed without a smile? or because his dark eyes scanned her through? And Deborah looked pleased, seeing May's emotion, and the girls ran gaily in together. Deborah's 'banquet' was spread in the great hall, and great noise and mirth there was over it.
CHAPTER THE FOURTH.
The day came but too soon for May to quit Enderby; the grandmother with whom she lived was ailing, and sent for her. But somehow May could not go that day, and must wait one day more; her trunks were packed, an old and trusty maid had arrived for her; but little May was sick at heart at the thought of leaving Enderby.